


Remembering Sunday

by rebranddjh



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: M/M, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-10
Updated: 2018-08-10
Packaged: 2019-06-25 11:05:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15639471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rebranddjh/pseuds/rebranddjh
Summary: Phil gets on a flight for work, little does he know this flight and the tired boy he encounters will change his life forever.





	Remembering Sunday

Phil hated flying, no - Phil hated flying alone. His company had sent him on a trip from London, England to Amsterdam, Netherlands in order to meet with other investors, at first, Phil was excited at the prospect of be able to travel somewhere he’d never been and get paid to do so. It was when Phil was told that he would be going alone, his attitude changed - still, determined to make the best of his time in Amsterdam he booked his taxi for three am, giving him ample time in the airport to get breakfast, and pick up any chargers he may have (read: definitely) left back in his flat.

Phil was great at many things; his job; comedy; making friends; that didn’t mean he was great at flying alone. Airports are habitually stressful places, and well, that stress manifests in Phil in one of two ways: he stays silent, observing those around him and creating backstories - that, or, he talks like there is no tomorrow. The taxi ride was short, the driver offering small talk which Phil gladly indulged in as it reminded him of the cheerful people he grew up surrounded by just outside of Manchester. The contrast of Northern and Southern people when it comes to friendliness levels was something Phil was adamant about, so the openness of the taxi driver was a bit of a shock to Phil’s system. He stumbled his way through a pleasant conversation about the weather, how early it was and the futility of education  before jumping out of the taxi finally at Heathrow.

Meandering his way through security without a hitch Phil found himself in the (classy as ever) McDonald’s ordering a less than satisfying breakfast and a coffee that tastes like disappointment, his tired eyes struggling to stay open. Phil had hoped that the americano would somehow feed moisture into his eyeballs in an effort to stop them from stinging, all the while knowing that every sip led him further astray from the sleep he knew his body desperately needed. He saw a boy traipsing over to the self-order machine, another person avoiding any form of human interaction at this ungodly hour, ‘Southerner’, Phil chuckled to himself before coming aware of just how weird he looked.

This boy peaked Phil’s interest - he was tall, not unlike Phil but he looked calm, Phil imagined the brown haired boys' thoughts were collected, calm and less chaos-fuelled than whatever was going on inside his own head. Brown curls framed the boys' face angled towards the floor, avoiding eye contact but walking with purpose once his number was called, choosing a seat near a power outlet. The boys' laptop illuminated his tired face and Phil was allowed a proper look at this handsome stranger, the blue light illuminating the bags under his eyes, the way his forehead wrinkled when he was clearly frustrated and the way he impatiently tapped on his laptop as if he was waiting for it to wake him up. Phil imagined this boy had freshly graduated from university and was on his way to a big job interview that would lead to the job of his dreams. He imagined the boy graduated with first class honours in an arts subject, English, History maybe even Drama. Phil was busy creating a little world for this boy in his mind, so preoccupied that when the boys' deep brown eyes met his own, Phil visibly jumped causing the mysterious boy to chuckle and reveal a set of dimples. Phil had never seen such a beautiful deformed muscle in his life - and yes he worded it weirdly in his mind, but _fuck_ this boy was breathtakingly beautiful.

Passing the time in the airport can go one of two ways, dreadfully slow or horrifyingly quick, for Phil this time it was the former. There’s only so many times one man can walk around duty free before he starts spending money on things he clearly doesn’t need. Sure, he bought a big toblerone because he watched Neo Yokio that one time. Was he going to eat it? Probably yes. Was it a good idea? No, he’s lactose intolerant and is more than likely jeopardising his work trip. Was Phil bothered by this? At four am, no, he couldn’t give  a fuck! He couldn’t help his mind wandering back to that boy, he was infatuated and he knew that it’d take a lot more than what Amsterdam could offer to rid his mind of him. Catching glimpses of the boy walking between the shops, Phil plundered on trying to forget about the attractive boy he sat near earlier, reminding himself that it was weird to be this infatuated with a literal stranger.

 

****Now boarding the 6:20 flight to Amsterdam Schiphol Airport. Please make your way to the gate****

 

Phil dragged his cabin luggage to the departure gate, memories of the boy at the back of his head now, instead his thoughts raced with ways to fill the flight time. Though it was a relatively short flight at just over an hour, the thought of flying - alone - terrified Phil. Whilst he felt at home in the clouds, there was something about a heavy metal object flying through the skies, and him being inside of it that unnerved him. Phil decided that he was going to watch one of the new episodes of Queer Eye on a flight, because Phil hates himself, evidently - well, that or there’s an emotional pain kink buried deep down inside. He stared out of the window at the tarmac, and the murky London sky wondering if Amsterdam held better prospects or at the very least, less rain. He felt somebody sit down next to him, but didn’t flinch instead, venturing inside his brain - filled with corgis, his houseplants and the list of tasks his boss had given him to complete over the coming days, Phil knew better than to be the person who strikes up a conversation before the plane had even left the tarmac. Mostly boring administration stuff with a meeting or two thrown in there.

The captain announced the safety demonstration and that’s when Phil turned to look at the person sat next to him trying to judge whether it was worth starting a conversation or not. His stomach did that flippy-over-thing when he saw the brown haired boy he’d admired from afar earlier on, thanking his lucky stars and with all thoughts of his trip gone Phil tried to come up with a conversation starter. Luck was on his side today, and he’d be fucked if he didn’t take this opportunity and run with it.

A nervous “Hi” tumbled it’s way out of Phil’s mouth - a simple word, a greeting filled with emotions of fear and hopefulness at the same time. It lingered in the air intertwining with the boys' cologne, the simple greeting was returned but not quite with the enthusiasm with which Phil had hoped.  The word tumbled out of the boys' mouth carelessly, with no thought behind it as if Phil had interrupted an important thought, as if Phil had intruded into this boy's world, a world in which he didn’t seem to fit in. Of course, perhaps Phil was being over-dramatic and reading into everything and anything that he possibly could. See, as a people watcher that’s what you do - you revel in stories, you immerse yourself in worlds that are not quite real but are real - the exist co-dependently but intertwine in ways in which Phil cannot access nor explain.

Half an hour into the flight, Phil heard a light snoring sound coming from his right, he didn’t want to risk turning and catching the boys' attention, but at the same time he wanted to see who it was, why they were sleeping on what was literally an hour long flight. But the thought of catching the boys' beautiful deep brown eyes, and the fear of being unable to look away meant that Phil kept his eyes on the clouds, as the sun was beginning to rise - he thought he could at least get a nice Instagram out of this flight “Nobody knows you’ve travelled unless you post a picture of a plane wing” he chuckled under his breath as to not catch anyone's attention. Phil shifted in his seat to slide down the blind on the window just a bit, as the sun was hitting him directly in the eyes - thus showing him just how bloody dirty his glasses were - he made a mental note to clean them once he got to the hotel.

It was when he shifted back into his seat and got comfortable he felt a weight fall on his right shoulder and his mind went a thousand miles per hour, trying to process that this boy was literally asleep on him. Trying to figure out what exactly he should do in this situation he ran through an onslaught of questions in his mind: ‘Should I wake him? No, he looks comfortable. What if he wakes up and is weirded out because I _didn’t_ wake him? Who cares you probably won’t see him again. How the fuck do I slow my heart rate down? Did I remember to put deodorant on this morning? Do I stink? Oh god, oh god oh god!’. Once Phil had calmed down and came to the conclusion that he wasn’t going to wake the boy, as he looked like he needed sleep - and well, he was fucking gorgeous, Phil started to take in his features, his jawline was strong but also soft, the curls in his hair were matted and the freckles on his face were dotted about perfectly - he liked the way that even his imperfections were perfectly _him_. Well, the idea of him that Phil had painted bit by bit in the few hours he had known of this strangers existence.

But that is all that he is, to Phil, in this moment - an idea of a person. He knows deep down that people are more than just ideas, this boy would definitely have his flaws and for all Phil knew he could be a complete twat. But Phil didn’t care, knowing that the chances of coming into contact with this boy ever again were slim Phil drowned himself in the essence of what his mind thought was perfection - because who wouldn’t, honestly?

The boy stirred from his sleep as the plane touched down on the tarmac in Amsterdam - Phil soon realised spent most of the flight daydreaming and that his right arm had gone really fucking numb. The boy sat upright when he realised what had happened a small “Sorry” fell from his lips before he rubbed his eyes and started to gather his belongings, slipping his passport into his back pocket and sliding his headphones around his neck so as not forget them. Phil could tell by the way he uttered the word “sorry” that a) he was definitely a southerner, and b) it was half-assed, Phil didn’t mind of course. He was infatuated as he watched the boy walk away from the seat Phil noticed the passport had fallen onto the floor of the plane. Phil stood up to catch the guy, but he’d already got off of the plane - clutching onto it Phil made a beeline for the exit ensuring that he had all of his belongings and that his passport hadn’t fallen out.

Approaching the security line, the boy was looking frantically through his backpack, Phil laughed to himself considering how tired this boy was less than two minutes ago, he seemed to be incredibly alert now.  
“Dan Howell, is it?” Phil said a smirk growing on his face, looking at the boys' passport photo “I believe that this is yours”. Dan’s eyes grew appreciative it seemed as if a feeling of deep relief had flooded his whole body and a giant smile revealed dimples. Phil knew that he hadn’t seen the last of this boy as he pulled his phone from the pocket. Dan quickly took Phil’s name off of him, said his goodbyes and darted for the border control muttering something about being late.

For a pretty uneventful plane ride, it would turn out to be an incredibly turning point in both boys lives. They just weren’t aware of that just yet.

**Author's Note:**

> This started as a tumblr prompt and it's supposed to be a one-shot, but if people actually like it I've thought of a few ways I can go with this!! I don't know, let me know what you think.
> 
> Also this is the first time I've written anything remotely creative since I was a massive emo and wrote frerard fic on a My Chemical Romance forum in like 2011, so yay!! I guess


End file.
